


Sonolumine

by Verbose_Mode



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9104659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verbose_Mode/pseuds/Verbose_Mode
Summary: Two of the reactivated Overwatch program's newest recruits clash over their past rivalry, raising concerns from the other members.





	

Winston groaned and got up off the mat laid out in the middle of the _Valliant_ as Lúcio clapped and Reinhardt laughed uproariously. Soldier: 76 dusted off his hands and stretched.

“And that’s how we’re doing this. Go until their off the mat or flat on their back.”

Doctor Angela “Mercy” Zeigler frowned. “I don’t think I’ve seen you throw a full-grown gorilla before. That has to be bad for your back.”

Winston huffed. “ _His_ back? What about mine?”

“It think you’ll live. Scans are showing no notable injuries.” Mercy checked her tablet and smirked. “Except to your lower-right ego. That’s gone. We’ll have to amputate.”

“Man, you guys take training fo’ _real_!” Lúcio said, grinning. “Tell me I don’t have to fight Winston, though. Or Reinhardt. I don’t think I can do what you just did.”

Soldier: 76 glared at him through his face-concealing visor. “It’s not always going to be a fair fight on the battlefield, and it’s not supposed to be fun. That said, I think Winston has had enough, and I want a fair assessment of both our newcomer’s skill. You will be facing each other.”

Lúcio’s face fell as he looked past Soldier to the other side of the _Valliant_ , where their newest teammate was sitting separate from the rest of them. Lúcio knew he was making a rather foul expression, but frankly he didn’t care. “Oh.”

Satya Vaswani, far better known by her callsign “Symmetra,” stood up and walked to the mat with a curt nod.

Lúcio began to voice his opinion on the situation.

“Aww _HELL NAW_!” Lúcio punched the table. “It’s bad enough that you recruit a Vishkar spook-“

“Ex-Vishkar.” Symmetra noted. This only served to fuel the Brazilian rebel further.

“-but I am _not_ dealing with _her shit_ any more than I have to!”

Mercy put a hand on his shoulder. “Lúcio, she didn’t know. Not many knew what was happening until the holovids got out. Satya’s not-“

“If you say ‘she’s not a bad person’ then I would love to show you footage of my favela _burning to the ground!_ ”

Symmetra gave a haughty sniff. “It was such actions that prompted my resignation. Overwatch may be able to continue Vishkar’s work in less… unpleasant ways.”

Lúcio just stared with his mouth open. “U-unpleasant?”

Reinhardt shook his head. “Ah, so much frustration in these youth. You _both_ need to learn to relax. Go on. Get up there get it out of your system.” 

“So beat the snot out of her.”

“I won’t let it come to that.” Soldier: 76 growled.

“I do not believe it possible regardless. Agent Lúcio lacks the discipline and training to challenge me.” Symmetra stated.

“That’s it.” Lúcio stood up, vaulting over that table. “You’re gonna eat mat.”

Winston pushed his glassed up his nose nervously. “This… is not good.”

Reinhardt leaned forward to watch. “Zis is _very_ good!”

“Wilhelm, no.” Mercy admonished.

“Wilhelm _yes._ ” The big German said eagerly. “I want to ze a real fight!”

Lúcio kicked off his shoes and pulled his sweater off, leaving him in his bright-green sweatpants andtanktop, hopping from toe to toe as he shook his arms loose, glaring the whole time. Across from him, Symmetra calmly stepped out of her heels and pushed them neatly to the side. She held up a finger, stopping Lúcio from stepping onto the mat.

“What?”

“It is crooked.” Symmetra kneeled and tugged on her side, aligning the padding with the floor panel of the _Valliant_.

Lúcio rolled his eyes and looked back over his shoulder with a _you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me_ face. Mercy and Reinhardt shrugged, equally confused.

“Are you two ready to quit screwing around?” Soldier barked. “Get on the mat! Ready! Three, two, one, go!”

Lúcio grinned humorlessly at his opponent, and Symmetra gazed back impassively as she brought her arms up into a generic boxing stance. He almost immediately saw where this fight was going.

He sent a snap-kick up toward Symmetra’s ribs. The snap-kick is one of the first moves they teach children in karate, probably because without a direct hit to the head, it’s almost impossible to hurt someone with it. Symmetra blocked the feint smartly with her elbow and went for the direct and simplest counter: step in and sweep the leg, sending Lúcio falling backwards.

Lúcio would have laughed if he could have spared the breath.

He took the fall on the back of his forearm and rolled it onto his shoulders, turning the arc of his fall into a spinning motion as he pushed against the ground hard. His legs helicoptered over him, and he brought his heel around hard into Symmetry's now-open right side. She gave a cry of pain as he followed through, spinning himself away and flipping back to his feet.

“ _Whooo!_ You want some-UUNG!”

Symmetra had not gone down as he had expected her to, and stepped in with a very simple, straight jab to the nose. Lúcio stumbled back. She wasn’t _strong,_ but it was still his nose.

He threw a wild haymaker and just barely dodged Symmetra’s answering uppercut. He planted his heel as he parried her second jab, bringing his knee up to her gut for a fight-ending blow.

It connected at the same time as Symmetra's wickedly fast chop to the Adam’s apple. 

Symmetra went down instantly, diaphragm crippled. Lúcio took a moment longer as he staggered back, confused about the lack of air, before falling over himself.

“Aaand, match. I got my assessment.” Soldier 76’s glare could be felt through his visor. “You’re both pathetic. I’m going to go pretend I didn’t see that while you get your shit together.”

The tingle of Mercy’s nano-beam passed over Lúcio, restoring normal airflow as he gasped and sat up in time to see Soldier going up to the cockpit. She flitted over to Satya next, offering her a hand to get back on her feet once her ministrations were done. Symmetra refused it and stood on her own, returning to her seat on the far side of the shuttle.

“I’m calling it, training is over. Doctor’s orders. Anyone continues to fight after this moment they answer to me, or worse Agent Amari when we land.” Mercy stated. 

Lúcio jackknifed to his feet, trudging back to his seat and glaring across at his old enemy the whole time.

***

 

“Agent Mercy.” 

Mercy glanced up from her desk at the Korean safehouse. “Symmetra. Please, just ‘Mercy’ or Angela or even ‘Doctor’ is fine. What can I do for you?”

“Of course. I would like to discuss Agent Lúcio with you.” Symmetra made an artful gesture with her hardlight-enhanced glove, constructing a stool underneath her even as she sat down. She realized it was more polite to ask permission to sit when approaching someone for information, but she wanted to get straight to the point. Mercy seemed duly impressed by the utility, regardless.

“Ah. Is this about what happened during the training aboard the _Valliant_? I assure you, there was no danger, we simply like to practice as we fight when-“

“I am not concerned about my safety during training. I am concerned about my and others safety in the field.”

Mercy’s eyes widened. “You think Lúcio is going to shoot you in the back?”

Symmetra thought a moment. “Unlikely. I do believe he would dedicate excessive time and effort into reducing my own performance, possibly to the detriment of safety to the group as a whole. He has displayed intense aggression at the mere concept of my presence that could distract him during operations.”

Mercy nodded slowly. “I can talk to Mor- ah, leadership about your concerns. At the very least, we can assure that you will not be sent on missions together.”

“That would be suboptimal. Our abilities complement each other. I wish to know what I can do to reduce Agent Lúcio’s hostility toward me.”

That brought Mercy to a full stop, and Symmetra felt a stirring of anxiety at the familiar expression of utter disbelief on Mercy’s face. Symmetra had seen it many times, on many faces. She said or did something she thought needed to be said or done, and people just could not understand. They saw it as strange.

She almost expressed the relief she felt when Mercy broke out in a sunny smile. “Oh! You would have difficulty making friends, but it is wonderful that you want to try! Try and see if you can be a little less… cold. At least at first.”

“Cold?” Symmetra asked.

“Like that.” Mercy made a haughty expression for a moment. “I don’t think you realize you do that.” She made the expression again.

“I do?”

“Yes. A _lot_. Try to smile more! I personally find it makes the practitioner feel better as well.” Mercy beamed at her again. Symmetra graced her with more restrained smile in return.

“I will bear that in mind.”

Mercy stood up and tapped a few keys on her computer, activating the hologram projector in the room. It was an older model, with dusty internals, and Symmetra could tell the flickering was going to get on her nerves. 

Its content, however, was a blog. Fanmade, dedicated to Lúcio Correia. Mercy waved at a video of some fans dancing. “You might want to look into some of his interests as well and see if there is anything you can talk about with him. Taking interests in someone else’s interests is an excellent way to relate. People _do_ like to talk about what they like.”

Symmetra ran through a quick laundry-list of her and Agent Lúcio’s established likes and dislikes. It was a short list, that got disturbingly shorter as she narrowed down generic answers like “dancing” and “music” to genres. Wine, perhaps, maybe the adrenaline rush of combat operations. Neither seemed like appropriate conversation starters

She nodded slowly, standing up to get a better look and trying not to judge the layout of the blog to harshly. “Thank you, I will bear that in mind. In the meantime… may I fix your projector?”

***

 

“C’mon, man, just let me talk to him.”

Reinhardt folded his arms in front of Lúcio. “ _’76_ is arranging contact with ze potential recruit. I know vat you vant to ask, and ze answer is _no_. You vill not ruin the point of this entire trip by asking anyvay!”

Lúcio tried to slip around, only to have his path through the seedy Korean knick-knack shop be cut off again by a large amount of German. “Dude, this is important!”

“If it is so important, I vill deal with it myself! So, tell me, my friend, vaht is it that you need?” Reinhardt caught Lúcio by the shoulder as he tried harder to juke around him. Lúcio tried to throw the hand off, but a slight increase of pressure made it clear that Reinhardt was going to be taken seriously. He turned him around and marched Lúcio right out of the shop and into the street. “Valk with me.”

“Do I _got_ a choice?”

“No.”

Reinhardt guided Lúcio through the crowded market and up to an elevated plaza, out of the mass of people and into fresher air. The plaza was made of hard light over the street formed around the taller buildings, dotted with benches, tables and large basins filled with grass and trees. It contrasted a little garishly with the older wood and neon visible below through the blue floor, but showed signs of integrating with some of the more entrepreneurial vendors moving up. Reinhardt took his hand off of him and sat on a bench under an oak, the tree surreally suspended by the light behind him. 

“Sit.”

Lúcio sat, eyes narrowed. 

“Speak.” Reinhardt ordered. 

Lúcio chewed his lip a bit, gathering his righteous anger.

“Bad dog.” Reinhardt said, frowning.

“Say what?” Lúcio whipped around in time to see Reinhardt break out in a silly grin.

“Nothing, nothing, I just making a stupid joke. Vat bothers you, my friend?”

Lúcio clasped his hands and leaned forward, staring at the throngs of people below. “You’ve been around the block a few times, man, you’re old. You ever make an enemy? Like, a real enemy? The shoot-on-sight kind?”

Reinhardt laughed. “Of course! Many times, and nearly as many victories. The difference is just because I have not von yet!”

“You ever work with your enemies, big guy? Huh?” Lúcio watched Reinhardt carefully.

“No!” Reinhardt grinned cheekily. “I only vork vith friends.”

Lúcio slapped his hand across his knee and stood up. “Then how can you _possibly_ know what I am dealing with right-“

Reinhardt’s hand stopped him. Gently, this time.

“ _E_ Fifty-Four.”

“Huh?” Lúcio let himself be sat back down.

“Unit Type _E_ Fifty-Four. Omnic Mobile Siege Unit ‘Bastion.’ I have destroyed many in the war. I have lost more friends and family to zem than I can count. They stopped attacking in twenty fifty-two. But I only von my fight against them recently.”

Lúcio stayed quiet.

“Mei-Ling brought back that broken one, from Africa. Putters around her lab and holds things for her?”

“Yeah.” Lúcio felt like his heart was being crushed. To have something that you watched kill your own, that tried to kill you, happily sitting with your friends while they have no idea of the danger it posed… he had no idea that had been in front of ‘ole Rein the whole time…

“It’s a cutie, right?” Reinhardt roared with laughter. “Have you seen it try to make tea? Adorable! Mei taught it to get coats at the door last time I was there, it vas like having grandkids again! Za hunk of metal is just precious! And don’t get me started on the little birdie zat follows it around!”

Lúcio’s mouth hung open as Reinhardt laughed. “Wha ha! And the mission she brought it on, za one right after we picked you up in Nepal? Turned Talon mercenaries into confetti! It vas a _great_ change to hear zat minigun coming from _my_ side of za barrier!”

Reinhardt stood up, patting the top of a stunned Lúcio’s dreadlocks paternally. “You see, I can claim za greatest victory. How more thoroughly to defeat a foe than to befriend them? Think on that, friend. Think on that.”

Lucio stayed on the bench. He stayed there for quite some time, thinking.

***

 

Symmetra watched the video again while she rubbed biotic gel on her shoulder, easing the bruise that was forming there. She never thought the maneuver would be simple based on how easily and under pressure Agent Lúcio had done it, but it far more difficult to execute than she had expected. Stretching her arm, she stood and widened her stance, tugging her tee-shirt and shorts into place.

Once more, she threw herself shoulder-first toward the mat in the Gibraltar exercise room, swinging her legs up and over, twisting as she went… only to stall out and land haphazardly on her knees, arm twisted underneath her and face pressed into the mat. 

It was an improvement.

At least, that was what she told herself to keep trying. 

She threw herself at the mat again, and this time could not convince herself there was change. She grumpily sat up and pulled the blurry video closer of the street performer displaying incredible agility and flexibility with his capoeira, resetting the clip she wanted and playing it for the sixty-eighth time. 

She had decided she would stop when she had attempted the maneuver one-hundred times. At two attempts per time she had watched the video average, she had passed that point some time ago. She squinted at the blurry phone-video and tugged on the playback speed holo-button, slowing it down.

“You need to get you some chill.” The voice was loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Symmettra leapt to her feet, heart racing at the surprise. She hadn’t heard footsteps, and the reason was quickly explained when she saw Lúcio standing barefoot at the entrance to the exercise room, a duffle bag slung over his back. He looked… unhappy, but it did seem he had been there for some time.

Symmetra quickly composed herself, catching the haughty sneer before it made it too far across her face. She debated smiling, but felt that would put him off more. She had already made her first impression as a jerk, as Mercy had so kindly explained. Suddenly changing that would put people on edge.

“Perhaps. How do you recommend I acquire some ‘chill?’”

Lúcio rolled his eyes and slid his bag off, dropping it unceremoniously to the floor. “I mean _relax,_ lady. Give yourself to the rhythm. Your too stiff and trying to copy someone who doesn’t have your body. He can do that because he feels it. You ain’t feelin’ it.”

Lúcio tapped the wall, and Symmetra noted he was wearing the interface glove of his sonic gear. A quick gesture and he had control of the speakers in the room, a few more and they began a bouncing snare-filled beat.

“Relax. Get your groove. And try something easier. Watch my feet.” Lúcio bobbed back and fourth before going through a basic hip-hop pattern, narrating it as he did so. “Step-back, step-up, step-cross crouch-turn-stand.”

Symmetra imitated the pattern without difficulty. Or so she thought.

“No no _no_ , Viskar. Can you not feel the music?” Lúcio snapped his glove in time with the music, adding in a sharper cymbal. Symmetra could not help but note that that was not a factory-standard function.

“I can hear the music just fine. I was perfectly in rhythm.” She retorted, annoyed.

“ _Yeah_ , like a _robot_. Groove! Make it _you_.” Lúcio swayed loosely back and forth, waving his glove through a pattern that added a rising and falling synthetic tone to the speakers as he pushed his headphones up onto one ear. “Get you some chill or I’m out.”

Symmetra took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The man was speaking words without meaning them as intended, but the feeling was there for her to understand. Symmetra had to work past the slang to know what he was really asking for. She had imitated him flawlessly the first time, but he was not asking for imitation. He was asking for improvisation. For her to add something to his basic design that made it better. 

She did that every day with hard light.

Eyes still closed, she lifted her arms and pinched her fingers as if she were weaving a construct. A boat, she would create, an artificial lily pad to stand on, floating on water at the pool in her Viskar suite. In time with the beat, she stepped. One-half under each foot as her arms twirled around the weave, lowering herself for balance, then pulling herself out across the pool with a wire of light as she turned and stood up, back into a balanced final position. A harmonious solution to crossing a body of water. All to the rhythm.

Lúcio clapped. Just twice. The music cut off with a brutal scratch, and she opened her eyes.

“Ok, that was good. Silky smooth.” He nodded. “Real flow-y. So, you wanna apply that kinda flow to what you was trying to do there. Can you do a cartwheel?”

More shaken by his casual removal of the music than anything, Symmetra nodded. “Of course. Child’s play.”

Lúcio chuckled. “Hey, you never know. Pharah can’t. You shoulda seen Tracer and Genji trying to teach her. And by trying I mean failing. Anyway, a ‘windmill’ like that is _not_ easy to begin with, but the very basic idea is a cartwheel turned a bit on the side, with your shoulders and forearms instead of your hands. It was a year before I could do mine without falling on my face.”

“In that case, I am comforted. I had not realized the difficulty of that maneuver and believed it was my own shortcomings.” Symmetra looked Lúcio over. “I am surprised that you utilized such a technique in combat. Most impressive.”

“Uh, thanks?” Lúcio stepped back to his bag. “Well I gotta get going, Winston might get lost in his work but he’s gonna wonder where I am eventually.”

“Is your equipment malfunctioning?” Symmetra asked. She had a suspicion, but had not voiced it. He had few reasons to be wearing his gear during downtime.

“Naw, just needs charging. Batteries need some extra every once in a while.”

Symmetra’s eyebrow went up. “Then it is most definitely malfunctioning. Vishkar nuclear cells do not need charging.”

Lúcio yelped and dropped his duffle bag with a clunk. “That thing has a _nuke_ in it?!”

“Yes. About this size.” Symmetra held up her hand, fingers about four inches apart. “Incapable of detonation or meltdown, yours is most likely in standby and you have been using the backup batteries. If you like I am a fully qualified to repair Vishkar equipment.Bring the generator portion over here.”

Symettra picked up the generator portion of her hard light projector and set it on her shoulder, grasping the circular projector firmly in her palm as the system came online, with a deft and practiced motion, she wove the glove of stark white hard light glove that held the two components in place, securing the connecting cable neatly underneath. Lúcio deposited the backpack he had mounted the stolen crowd control weapon to on the bench beside her with a clunk.

With a practiced motion, she removed every mag-pin and outer plate simultaneously, suspending them in a hard light grid for a exploded view of the insides. It did not take her long to locate the generator and run it through its startup sequence. She quickly identified the power control software was out of date, and updated the few changes to code from memory. The changes should extend the reactors life by another five years on top of its intended three-hundred year design intent, the added economy easing some of the stress from her attempts at breakdancing. Almost as an afterthought, she removed the quartet of superconductor batteries from the top before closing everything back up. The sonic amplifier hummed to life, pulsing with Lúcio’s preset standby audio file.

“What’s that?” Lúcio poked the batteries where they sat on the shelf Symmetra had made. 

“Unneeded components. I have reduced the weight of your equipment by eight percent. Fair trade for explaining the secret to your capoeira.”

“Dayum. _Eight_.” Lúcio said sarcastically. “I’ll teach you how to pop and lock it next time if you can shave off another eight.”

Symmetra considered for a moment, and she decided she was going to take that statement at face value. “How much would a sixty-five percent in total equipment weight reduction, without a loss in performance get me?”

“Ha, yeah, right.” Lúcio clearly was not taking her seriously. “Dinner and a bottle of wine at _La Linterna_ , but you got no chance since Winston’s jacked all the armor out already and Torby-yorn replaced the servos-“

Struck by a sudden urge to see the rebel stuffed into formalwear, Symmetra interrupted as she gathered her things.

“Please bring your complete ensemble to my quarters tomorrow morning, and find appropriate attire for a restaurant of _La Linterna’s_ prestige by that afternoon. I will make arrangements with Agent Tracer for transportation and have Agent Winston standing by as a judge to note actual gains.”

“What.”

“I take your bet. Spain has good wine.”

***

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sonoluminescence: The emission of bursts of light from suspended bubbles in a liquid when excited by sound.


End file.
